


Turnover

by cofax



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-23
Updated: 2009-11-23
Packaged: 2017-10-03 15:50:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cofax/pseuds/cofax
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A snippet in the locker room from season 1.  Set before "The Broca Divide".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turnover

When Jack comes into the locker room, Daniel's shoulders are up around his ears, and he jumps when Jack yanks his locker open.

Teal'c is sitting on the bench, carefully lacing his boots, using the complex reversed technique Carter had taught him during their quarantine on 786. If it were one of the Marines, or Feretti, Jack would suspect them of fucking with the Jaffa's mind. But this is Carter, and after four months Jack knows she'd never do such a thing to the guy who's saved all their asses twelve times over.

Of course, she'd totally do it to Jack, but that's a different thing.

Teal'c cocks his head, his face easing slightly from his near-perpetual look of grim resolve. "Something is wrong, Daniel Jackson?"

"Ah, no." But Daniel doesn't look up from his kit.

Jack shrugs into his t-shirt. "Doesn't sound like nothing," he says mildly.

"Yeah, well." Daniel finally turns around to face them, latching his locker with careful movements. He wears a false, strained smile. Jack's seen it before, more often recently, as Daniel settles into a life he's never asked for. Asked for the job, sure--but not everything that came with it. The boredom alleviated only by terror, the bureaucracy, the endless protocol and posturing of the military environment. Learning to use a weapon, to pack a kit, to stand watch. None of it natural to Daniel, an academic product of a family of academics.

And none of it the source of the current problem. Jack thinks about today's schedule and raises an eyebrow. "Had your physical yet?"

Daniel purses his lips and nods, unspeaking.

The SGC is a hard posting, and Hammond is still shaking out the staff. They're on their fourth base physician in six weeks, and it's getting wearing, answering the same questions again and again. The last one left after SG-2 developed green fuzz all over their ears and genitals; and the one before that broke down just reading the report on Kawalski's autopsy. The new one--Jack hasn't bothered to learn the name--is a tiny thing with snapping dark eyes. She reminds him of one of Charlie's kindergarten teachers, all authority without the physicality to back it up.

"Same questions?" Jack asks casually. Even he finds the constant medical checkups unsettling, and he's pretty much adjusted to having the job take over every aspect of his life. For Daniel and Teal'c, it's invasive, alien. It might even be worse for Teal'c, but he hasn't said a word; Jack doesn't want to think about what form Goa'uld medical exams might take.

"Not quite," admits Daniel after a moment, bending his head over his boots. "She, ah." He doesn't finish the sentence; his eyes are hidden behind the hair flopping down as he unties and then reties his boots.

Teal'c stands, gathering up his pack and vest. "She asked about Sha're," he says, with such conviction Jack can't tell if he's witnessing or guessing.

There's no response from Daniel other than a sudden movement that could be a nod or a shake, Jack can't tell.

"Let me guess: she wanted to test you for weird alien syphilis?"

That, at least, gets something out of Daniel: he chokes out a laugh and looks up. His eyes are only a little red. "No actually. It was--she was okay. She was just making conversation, and my file lists me as married. She didn't know."

Jack cocks his head: and then?

"And then she stuck a needle in me and told me I was drinking too much coffee," Daniel finishes up, with a smile that's weak, but honest.

"You do consume far more of this beverage than Captain Carter," points out Teal'c.

"So," says Jack, slapping his hands on his knees and standing up. "We've got a new doc, who hasn't passed out, freaked out, or offended anyone yet. Too good to be true--I'll bet a pitcher of beer she doesn't last two months." He holds the door open and waves the others through.

Daniel shoulders his pack and follows Teal'c into the hallway. "Yeah, but Jack, just one problem."

"Whazzat?" The locker door swings shut with a definitive clunk.

"I don't _like_ beer."


End file.
